LOCKED GATES
Kitty Norris had always been popular at school, for she had a charming
way of fitting into things. Before she had been in Chilton an hour she
felt perfectly acquainted with Wardell Force, Mrs. Mallow, Marshmallow
and even Jake. Marshmallow in particular took an immediate liking to her
and tried to monopolize her time.
“You know,” Kitty admitted that night, after the girls had gone to their
room, “I sort of like Marshall. He’s so jolly.”
“I thought you were quite taken by him,” Doris laughed. “It’s plain to
see Marshmallow has taken a distinct liking to you.”
“Doris Force!”
“Well, he has. Too bad he’s so fat.”
“He is a little stout,” Kitty admitted.
“Stout!” Doris teased. “How you have fallen!”
“Well, then I guess we’re even,” Kitty retorted. “You and Dave—”
“We’d better be tumbling into bed,” Doris interposed hastily, “or we
won’t be rested for our trip tomorrow to Locked Gates.”
Shortly after eleven o’clock the following morning, David Chamberlin
called for the girls. Wardell Force had of necessity taken an early train
out of the city, so there were only Jake, Marshmallow and his mother to
see them off.
“Wish I were going,” the plump youth murmured enviously. “Still, I have a
sneaking notion it won’t be as jolly as you think down there at Locked
Gates.”
“Then we’ll liven the place up,” Doris declared lightly.
Dave drove rather slowly, for neither he nor the girls were eager to
reach Rumson before the middle of the afternoon. Doris and Kitty had gone
to great pains to prepare and pack a dainty lunch and the three planned
to stop some place along the road for a picnic.
The day was unpleasantly warm and sultry. As they took the main highway
leading to Rumson, Doris glanced anxiously at the scattered clouds which
were to be seen overhead.
“I hope it doesn’t rain and spoil our picnic,” she said.
“Oh, I don’t think it will,” Dave replied. “The sky is almost clear.”
It was true that the sun was shining brightly, but the sky had a dull
appearance which Doris did not like. However, as they motored along
enjoying the scenery, she forgot the matter completely.
“I’m beginning to get hungry,” Dave announced as it approached noon. “We
may as well begin to look for a good place to stop.”
Presently, Doris caught sight of an attractive grove of trees ahead.
“That’s just the spot!” she declared. “Cool and shady and not too close
to the road.”
Dave parked the roadster just off the highway and they took the hamper
over to the grove.
“This is a dandy place,” Kitty approved. “I believe there’s a spring back
there among the rocks.”
Dave had been gazing thoughtfully toward a sign.
“I’m not sure that we should have stopped here,” he said.
“Why not?” Doris demanded quickly.
“We seem to have camped pretty close to the entrance to the Glenville
Roadhouse. However, we’re not on their property.”
“What difference does it make?” Kitty asked innocently.
“Well—” Dave hesitated. “This roadhouse doesn’t have much of a
reputation, so I’ve been told.”
“Perhaps we had better leave,” Doris suggested.
“We have everything all spread out,” Kitty complained, “and this is the
nicest grove we’ve passed. We’re not even within sight of the roadhouse.”
“I don’t believe it will do any harm to stay here,” Dave agreed. “We’ll
soon be on our way again.”
They sat down and began to eat luncheon. There were thin sandwiches,
ice-cold lemonade, salad, pickles, and some of Mrs. Mallow’s delicious
cookies and cake. Long before they had finished, they realized that their
imaginations had been more ambitious than their appetites.
“I can’t eat another thing,” Kitty groaned.
“It’s a shame to let these sandwiches go to waste,” Dave excused himself,
selecting one made of chicken.
“Bet you can’t take it all in one bite,” Doris dared him on.
“A little thing like that? Just watch me! Why you’re not looking!”
It was true that Doris was no longer interested. A red roadster had
turned into the lane leading to the roadhouse, and she had caught a
glimpse of the driver’s face.
“It’s that same man we saw at the aviation meet!” she exclaimed.
“Evidently, he intends to have luncheon at the roadhouse.”
“Must not care much for his reputation,” Dave returned.
“You know, I don’t like this place,” Doris said quietly. “Now that we’ve
finished eating, let’s be on our way.”
“Right-o!” Dave sprang up and began to pack the dishes into the hamper.
As he placed the basket into the rear of the roadster he surveyed the sky
and frowned slightly.
“It’s beginning to look more like rain than it did,” he admitted. “I’m
afraid we’d better make full steam ahead or we may get caught in a
storm.”
Kitty and Doris did not hear, for their attention had been attracted to a
little brown dog which stood in the roadway regarding them with wistful,
friendly eyes.
“Oh, isn’t he cute!” Doris exclaimed. “Here, doggie! Come here!”
The little animal first backed timidly away and then, as the girls
continued to coax, hesitated, and finally came a few steps toward them,
wagging his tail in a friendly way. As Doris stooped to pat him on the
head he gave a pleased bark, and raising up on his hind legs, eagerly
offered her his right paw.
“He knows tricks,” Doris declared. “Oh, I wonder who owns him?”
“Looks to me like a stray dog,” Dave told her. “He hasn’t any collar or
license. The dog catcher will likely get him before long.”
“Not if I can help it!” Doris declared. “If he doesn’t belong to anyone,
we can take him with us.”
“What will the Misses Gates say when you come dragging him in?” Dave
asked with a smile.
“Oh, they won’t care. He’s such a darling!”
“What shall we name him?” Kitty questioned.
“Let’s call him Wags,” Doris exclaimed impulsively. “The name seems
appropriate.”
Wags had no objection to entering the car and snuggled down comfortably
between the two girls. With an anxious glance at the sky, Dave started
the engine.
“Looks like a big storm is rolling up,” he said.
The girls had been so interested in Wags that they had paid scant
attention to the clouds, but now as Doris looked about, she was alarmed.
The air was oppressive and not a breath of wind was stirring. Heavy black
clouds had loomed up in the west and rapidly were spreading over the
entire sky.
“I think I can get you to Locked Gates before it strikes us,” Dave said
grimly, as he shifted gears and stepped heavily on the gas pedal. “Hold
tight!”
The roadster fairly shot down the road. As the figures crept upwards on
the tape of the speedometer, Doris and Kitty clung to each other. Not
until the car began to rock and weave on the road, did Dave reduce his
speed and then only slightly. However, he held the roadster steady and
handled the wheel with such a sure hand, that the girls had confidence in
his driving.
It was the appearance of the sky which frightened them. The sun had been
entirely blotted from sight, and though it was mid-afternoon, it seemed
nearly as dark as night. Dave snapped on the headlights.
“I’ll get you to Locked Gates before the storm breaks,” he announced in
relief as they rounded a sharp curve and came within sight of Rumson.
“Fortunately, the place is right at the edge of town.”
A few minutes later, he brought the car to a groaning halt in front of
the old Gates estate. In the gathering darkness the girls caught but a
glimpse of the large, rambling house which was set back some distance
from the road, but that was sufficient to assure them that it was gloomy
and forbidding.
“Here you are,” Dave said briskly. “Nice place for a murder!”
“Ugh!” Doris murmured. “You make my hair stand on end!”
“I almost wish we hadn’t come,” Kitty said nervously.
“Oh, everything’s all right. I was only joking.” Dave sprang from the car
and went over to try the double gates which barred the entrance. “Just as
I thought! Locked!”
“Then how are we to get in?” Doris questioned.
“There’s an entrance at the rear. Guess these gates are always kept
locked. We’ll try the other gate.”
Driving the roadster down a side street, he found the back entrance and
helped the girls to alight. As he picked up their suitcases to take them
to the door, Doris glanced again at the storm clouds. A streak of
lightning flashed across the sky, and she knew that unless Dave started
back at once, he would be caught in the rain.
“Don’t bother to take us to the door,” she commanded. “Start for Chilton
this minute!”
“I don’t like to leave you here until I know everything is O. K.,” he
protested.
“It’s only a step to the door, Dave. Be a good boy and don’t wait.”
“Well, since you insist, I will start, because it looks like a storm and
the roads may get slippery.”
Hastily the three said goodbye and Dave sprang into the roadster. He
slammed the door shut and was gone before the girls had managed to
unfasten the gate.
“It does look spooky,” Kitty quavered.
Doris laughed uncertainly. She managed to open the gate and it swung back
on creaking hinges. A sudden breath of wind struck her face and went
whistling through the trees.
The house, half-hidden by shrubbery, was shrouded in deepest gloom, and
no light glimmered from the windows. Doris hesitated as she picked up her
suitcase. Kitty held back, and even Wags seemed reluctant to venture down
the path.
“Come on, Kitty,” Doris admonished, “Everything is all right.”
As she spoke, a gust of wind whined through the trees, and to the girls
it sounded strangely like the wailing of a human being in distress.
“Oh, I don’t like it here,” Kitty murmured timidly. “I’m afraid.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Kit. Just follow me.”
Carrying their heavy suitcases, the girls groped their way down the path.
It was so dark now that they could not see where they were going and
frequently brushed against shrubbery. Wags had disappeared.
Suddenly, Kitty gave a frightened cry as she stumbled over the root of a
tree. Catching Doris’s arm to save herself from a bad fall, she permitted
her pocketbook to slip from her hand. It opened as it struck the ground,
and the contents spilled in every direction.
“Look what I’ve done now!” Kitty wailed.
Doris set her suitcase down and helped her chum search for the things she
had lost. They found a pencil, a compact and a number of bills, when
another flash of lightning momentarily illumined the path.
“Never mind the rest,” Kitty said nervously. “I’ve found everything
except a quarter, and I’ll look for that tomorrow.”
They continued on up the path and came to the old mansion. The place
appeared dark and deserted and Kitty would have retreated, had not Doris
gripped her firmly by the arm. Bravely, she lifted the old-fashioned
knocker.
Huddled together on the veranda, the girls waited. When no one came to
admit them, Doris again knocked. Just as she was beginning to think that
it was no use, they heard a heavy step. Then the door opened and a man,
bearing an oil light, peered out at them.
Before either Doris or Kitty could explain their mission, there came an
unexpected yelp. To their horror, Wags, suddenly appearing from beneath a
lilac bush, rushed past them straight at the man in the doorway, striking
him with such force that he toppled him over.
A heavy peal of thunder resounded as the man slumped to the floor in a
queer sort of kneeling position which, at any other time, would have been
provokingly funny to Doris Force and her chum. But this was serious
business and such a dilemma!
“Wags!” shouted Doris, “Come here, come here!”
The dog bounded into the kitchen, around a table, sniffed at some cake
placed dangerously near the table edge, madly rushed to a basket of
potatoes throwing the potatoes in all directions over the smooth floor,
and then at the call from Doris headed again towards the doorway with a
dish towel playfully dragging between his teeth.
“Here, puppy, here!” commanded Kitty, catching her breath and setting
down her suitcase, while Doris tried to catch a corner of the linen as
the dog jumped over the bewildered man, pulling the cloth over the man’s
head.
“Help, oh, ouch, help!” shouted the man. “Call your mutt off! Help! Let
me get up!”
“Wags, doggie, doggie, come here!” pleaded Doris, as she realized the man
was now in no mood to be trifled with.
She and Kitty decided that they now must command their new pet’s
attention.